L'Étrange Noël Des Monsieurs Arthur et Eames
by evondahlkilledthelocals
Summary: Eames goes out to try to figure out how he feels about Arthur. He manages to drunkenly piss off the wrong woman and ends up as something entirely foreign to his daily life. Arthur/Eames slash. AU, sort of.


**AUTHORS NOTE: **Characters belong to Christopher Nolan. Title based on the French title of "The Nightmare Before Christmas", by Tim Burton. Only thing I own is this crazy plot.

* * *

"Tu est un chien monsieur! Un chien! Je n'aime pas toi!" The woman shouted at him in French, her words clipped and short as she did. Eames just stared her down, the alcohol slightly clouding his mind and making her image dance in front of him though she stood still. He could feel her anger just radiating off of her and smirked, shaking his head at her even though it made him dizzy, "I didn't…I don't speak French, darling. But, try again in English?"

The woman muttered under her breath, but all Eames could catch was "stupide!" and he shrugged at her, turning away to leave. The bartender glanced between them nervously, calling for coverage in French before following the drunken Englishman out of the bar. He caught Eames right before Eames slipped out, muttering about needing to apologize to the witch doctor and Eames laughed, looking back at him with a playful grin, "She is quite the bitch, isn't she? All this mess because I don't like the broad, or any girls for that matter."

The man watched on as Eames left, glancing back to the woman the bar and it's regular patrons knew well. She glared at the door as it swung shut, turning to run out the back without another question. The bartender sighed to himself, shaking his head as he returned to his duties for the night without another word.

Eames stumbled his way through the back allies of Paris, attempting to make it back to the safe house in one piece. The rest of the team had taken the night to sleep, but Eames needed his mind to stop. He needed it to stop racing with it's thoughts about a point man he adored and how he was going to convince that one man in particular that he was really not as annoying as the man seemed to find him. He knew alcohol was the last way to do that, but it was the only answer he could seem to come up with that constantly managed to fix his problems.

Finally, he found their base for the time being and stumbled into it as quietly as he could. He shut the door behind him with a soft click, locking the four locks before turning to make his way to his room he had been occupying. He slipped off his shoes and socks, setting them aside before lazily unbuttoning and pulling his shirt off. He felt hazier than usual, but he figured it was the one shot of absinthe he chose to take at the bar from the woman who yelled at him before he left. Yawning loudly, Eames let his shirt drop to the floor as he fell onto his bed and passed out within second of his head hitting his pillows.

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, Eames could tell something was wrong. He moved to stretch out, only to find his body would not move the way he wanted it to. He moved to look down at his body, shock settling in as he saw not a pair of hands or feet, but a set of brown furry paws. Hopping off of the bed, Eames fell over as he lacked his balance. Though he was used to being displaced in other people's forms as a forger, he was unaware of how to handle _this_. He found his chip on the bathroom counter, dreading the idea of it being a reality. Realizing it was, Eames huffed quietly as he finally caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror. He did a circle, staring at the shaggy haired German Shepherd sitting in the mirror. He whined quietly, his tail coming around to curl over his paws as he sat and stared at himself. He noted the collar, leaning close and mentally groaning. _William_ was engraved there with _6m_ underneath it. Of course it would have his actual name on it. Of course.

Eames looked around the room, huffing to himself as he did. He made his way back to his bed, hopping up onto it and curling up in a tight ball with his eyes on the door. When someone came to eventually attempt to wake him, he would make a run for it to the bar. That was the only solution. He figured they drugged him or something and that was why he was in this state. Closing his eyes momentarily, he began to mantra of _Arthur Arthur Arthur, come find me Arthur…_ in his head. As if the man could hear him, Eames's door opened a moment later and Cobb stepped in speaking as he did, "Eames, it is one in the afternoon you need…Jesus Christ! Where the…Arthur!"

Arthur's form appeared a moment later with an irritated look, "Cobb what…when did Eames get a dog?"

"It wasn't here yesterday…" Cobb looked around, noticing that not only was there now a dog but there was no sign of Eames, "Did you hear Eames come in last night?"

"No…"

"Arthur, I don't think he came back."

"He went to go out drinking last night, from what I heard. Meaning, he could be anywhere."

"I'll call him," Cobb fished his phone out, attempting to ring Eames. Eames's phone began ringing from the spot Eames left it sitting at on the dresser, making Eames huff out in annoyance. He sat up, staring at Cobb and Arthur curiously. Cobb was cursing under his breath, moving to grab Eames's phone as Arthur stared Eames down. He walked closer, one hand held out tentatively. Seeing his nerves for the first time ever made Eames want to laugh and hug the man all at once. Eames stretched forward to meet him halfway, licking his hand in an attempt to show he was friendly and get on Arthur's good side. Eames knew from watching the man over the last few years since the Fischer case that Arthur has a soft spot for any and all animals. His family never allowed him pets when he was younger and now in his mid-twenties, Arthur was drawn in every time he saw a dog. Eames had seen him stop on multiple occasions to pet people's dogs on the street.

He reached up and began to scratch Eames behind the ears, making Eames's tail wag behind him against his will. Arthur scratched the dog all over, smiling brightly at him as he knelt down and did so. Eames took in the smile happily, as it was a rare sight on the usually serious man, and leaned over to lick at the man's cheek. Arthur laughed lightly, just a small chuckle even, and pushed Eames's muzzle away, "Hey now, not that friendly boy. What is…oh…William? Hmmm, a bit egotistical of Eames to name you after himself…"

"Eames is terrified of shepherds after being attacked one too many times by them in dreams, remember?" Cobb paused, staring down at Eames with a glare, "I don't know how this dog got in here…"

"I'll take it for now," Arthur quickly stated, making Cobb raise an eyebrow at him curiously. Arthur let a light blush form, looking back to the dog as he spoke, "I like animals…"

"Well, I'm leaving back to the states in a few hours with Ariadne. It will be just you here for now, so maybe it is safer to keep the dog. Will you check back here tonight to see if Eames comes back?"

"Of course," Arthur muttered, standing up to leave the room with Cobb. Eames hopped down from the bed, huffing to himself as he did. _I'm right here, thank you…_

Arthur stared down at Eames sitting at his feet, frowning. The dog was extremely well behaved for an animal, making him curious as to why it was missing. Eames followed him into the front room obediently, basking in the attention that Ariadne nearly instantly showed him. She cooed at him as though he were a child, making Eames's tail wag quickly as she scratched him behind his ears. He found he enjoyed that far more than he expected.

* * *

Dom and Ariadne left the safe house soon after, making Eames's heart ache painfully. A full month passed before it set in that he was not dreaming and was not going to change back any time soon. He hoped Dom could realize, for a moment, that it was him out of anyone. They had been staying at the safe house for a whole month, Arthur hoping that Eames would come back and Eames trying to get him to see that he was actually right there the whole time. Arthur had been mumbling to Dom on the phone about needing to get back to his flat. Whining quietly, Eames laid down next to the door to wait for Arthur to be ready to leave.

Moments later, Arthur came into the foyer carrying his own bags and Eames's luggage. Eames wagged his tail just at the sight of Arthur and Arthur smiled at him, patting his knee. Eames bolted over, sitting patiently at Arthur's feet as Arthur knelt down to be eye level with the large dog in front of him, "You're going to come with me back to my own apartment, but you need to be quiet. I have yet to hear you bark, which I guess is good, but I need that to stay that way or they'll take you from me…"

Arthur looked panicked at the thought of losing the dog, and Eames thought he felt his heart breaking at the thought.

* * *

Three months passed since Eames was changed and Arthur had fallen into a routine. He'd wake up every morning and go on a run with Eames, forgoing a leash since Eames never took off. They would run from his flat to the safe house, check for Eames, and come back to his flat again. After showering and putting on his clothing, he would feed Eames and get to work on attempting to find any signs of Eames in the world. After a few hours, he would get so frustrated that he'd be nearing a breakdown and have to get up to leave his desk. Eames would follow him out to the living room and climb up on the couch next to him, curling into his side with his head on Arthur's thigh as Arthur scratched behind his ears and attempted to hold back tears. Eames learned a side to Arthur he was never allowed to see as a friend, filled with constantly conflicting emotions and a lot more relaxed of a state of being.

He rarely wore suits around the home, instead wearing soft and plain black sweats with some variation of a college t-shirt over it. He would cry openly, react with anger when needed, and wasn't such a stick in the mud like Eames had previously thought. He heard him sing around the house and admired the sounds, even if he didn't understand the French words that were being sung. The movies he watched were romantic based films for the most part, but Eames did not mind since he had enough horror and violence in his past with work. What bothered Eames was seeing Arthur have his breakdowns.

One particular morning, they had woken up to make their way around town on their usual run. They went to the safe house, still finding no signs of Eames. However, while Eames began to go off to the door again and leave as they usually did, he stopped at the sound of a slightly strangled sob coming from behind him. Turning quickly, he trotted back into his own bedroom to find Arthur, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands as his body shook with tears. Eames had never seen the man so distraught and emotional, and it made him freeze on spot as Arthur choked on another sob. Eames stepped closer hesitantly and as soon as he was next to Arthur, Arthur hugged him close and cried mercilessly. He muttered brokenly to Eames, making Eames wish he were able to hold the point man in his arms as he did, "Why did he leave William? Why? He knew. He had to have known. I tried to show him I cared, why did he just _go _and not tell anyone? I…William I need him. I miss him so much."

Eames whined and nuzzled into Arthur's neck because that was all he could do in the situation. For the first time ever, Eames felt his heart breaking.

* * *

Another month passed and Eames was getting frustrated. He had been a dog for four months with no signs of him turning back. He found himself curled up on the couch in the living room, trying to figure a way to tell Arthur what happened when it clicked in his mind. He raced into Arthur's office, knocking the Scrabble box off the shelf he had become familiar with. Arthur cried out in horror, staring at the mess at his feet and at Eames, "William! What are you…no! Stop!"

Eames moved about, grabbing letters with his teeth delicately and attempting to spell on the board below him. Arthur stopped attempting to stop him as he saw words beginning to form and instead reached for the loaded dice he kept in his pocket. He rolled the red cube, getting a four every time and confirming that he was, in fact, actually seeing this and not dreaming. Eames stepped away after he wrote out his sentence, huffing as he looked at the haphazardly placed letters. It spelt out, _I am Eames not William_ and Arthur glanced to Eames nervously. Eames whined, nodding towards the board and huffing once more at Arthur. Arthur finally let it click into place and gasped, staring at the dog in horror. He had broken down in front of the animal, shown his most vulnerable side to it, and now it chose to tell him?

Eames whined, looking for more letters. Arthur pulled down his other two scrabble sets, spilling the letters onto the floor and watching in awe as Eames worked out another sentence. _Some daft broad at a bar did it this bartender called her the witch doctor I think it is a curse for six months at least I hope_

Arthur looked over to Eames again, frowning at him, "You…but…I told you things. I said…you didn't run from me."

Eames cleared the board with a paw, spelling out his next sentence hesitantly, _Care about you darling so why leave_

"Eames," Arthur stared at the dog in awe, all of it beginning to make sense again as to why this dog was there and was so well behaved. Eames saw as it clicked into place for Arthur. That Eames went missing the day this dog appeared. That the suit he was wearing that night before was left in the room. His phone was left in the room. Arthur looked over once more at Eames, his calculated look back into place instead of any emotion. He quickly stood, leaving Eames to follow after him. Arthur shut the door before Eames could leave though, making Eames trapped in the office. Eames whined loudly, hoping Arthur would come back and open the door but his whines went ignored. Eventually, Eames just gave up and laid down under the desk to sulk.

Telling Arthur did not exactly go as he planned and to say he was disappointed was something of an understatement.

* * *

As five months was drawing to an end, Eames was getting miserable. Arthur reverted to treating him as if he were a dog still, calling him William and living in his own denial of the situation. Eames could not blame him, he would chalk it up to a dream as well if Arthur turned into a dog. _Now a cat I could see…_

Eames huffed in laughter, curling up tighter into a ball on the couch. It was falling into winter time in Paris, with Thanksgiving only a few hours away. Snow had begun to fall all around them and Eames could not help but be miserable at that point. Dom and Ariadne had came and went, only stopping by to check if they found Eames and check on Arthur. Saito and Yusef had called to check in a few times, but they never stopped in.

Arthur continued searching for Eames, even though Eames knew he would find nothing. He even saw Arthur going through his list of the many identities he used. Eames had contemplated the life he was living. Sure, his life expectancy had just lost almost six decades. He assumed that he was two to three as a dog, seeing as he was always told one year for them was seven for a human. He figures if he doesn't get shot or hit by a car, he could live to be thirteen.

The sounds coming from the world around him even felt different and he was beginning to notice. Cars were louder than they used to be, footsteps sounded like thunder, and he could hear Arthur tapping his pen on the desk in a calculated rhythm in the other room. Huffing to himself, he hopped off the couch and padded into the kitchen. He ate the remainder of the breakfast he didn't finish, drinking a little bit of water to wash the taste down. He was even beginning to enjoy his dog food and that was what was starting to disturb him. He padded into Arthur's bedroom, climbing into his bed next to the small silver briefcase he knew and recognized. Staring at the briefcase, Eames began to get an idea. He grabbed the handle with his teeth, taking off towards the office in a hurry. Sitting at Arthur's side, he dropped the briefcase on the floor and whined.

Arthur glanced down at what Eames had brought him, his gaze darkening as he did, "William! How…"

For the first time since he had been changed, Eames barked at Arthur making Arthur's eyes widen in shock. Eames growled softly, not liking the deep rumble of a bark he had and vowing to never use it again. Arthur glanced at the PASIV before glancing back to Eames with a frown, "Do…are…look I know I've been in denial but William, I don't think dogs can go under. It may overwhelm your heart and make you die."

Eames huffed, looking around for the scrabble set. Noticing it had been moved to an unreachable shelf, he whined and pushed the case closer to Arthur. Arthur frowned, nodding as he picked up the PASIV he had avoided for months. Looking over to Eames he sighed, nodding, "Only for ten minutes at max, I don't want to kill you."

Arthur stood, briefcase in hand, and led them back to his bedroom. He carefully hooked them up to the machines, taking every precaution he could for if this either was or was not Eames, he could not bare the thought of losing his companion. With one last glance to Eames, he pressed the button that sent them under and spiraling down into Arthur's dream.

* * *

Eames realized, for the first time in over five months, that he was in fact a human again. He silently cheered for himself, checking himself over in the mirror he wound up in front of. He was dressed in a finely tailored suit, three pieces in navy blue and various greys. Quietly, he slipped out of the room and began his search for Arthur in the all too familiar building. It was plain and stark, he knew that, but it was full of paradoxes and it had been so long since he had been in Arthur's mind that he could not remember them all.

By the time he reached the bottom floor of the building, he spotted Arthur sitting on a couch with his back facing Eames. Eames smirked, leaning against the wall before he spoke as calmly and coyly as ever, "Darling, I knew you would wait until I was ready but this is quite ridiculous."

Arthur whipped around on the couch, his eyes wide in shock and his entire body frozen. Eames smirked at him, waving from the across the room with an amused look even though all he wanted to do was run over and take the point man into his arms. Arthur was up before he even thought to move though, and within second he had ran over to Eames and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Eames laughed, his deep and rumbling laugh he reserved only for when he was around Arthur, and wrapped his own arms tightly around Arthur, "My darling, I have missed being able to speak to you _immensely_."

"You are much better company when you aren't being annoying," Arthur mumbled into Eames's chest, making Eames laugh again. His laughed tapered off into a deep sigh as he dropped his head, pressing his nose against the curve of Arthur's neck. Arthur shook with nerves and excitement, a side of him that Eames enjoyed seeing. He knew Arthur was tough. Hell, he would never fight Arthur mentally or physically out of fear of just how strong and well trained the man actually was. However, Arthur was as human as the rest of them and buried beneath the persona he loved to show the world was a scared and lonely boy that just wanted to be loved. Eames intended to be the man to love him before he was turned. Though, really, he still intended to be that man even after. Once he figured out how to be human again.

"We don't have much time, love," Eames sighed through his nose, lifting his head so that he was making direct eye contact with Arthur, "You understand now, right? You have to know now that it is actually me. You _have to_. I've been so bloody lonely, even with you there."

Eames knew he was tearing up, but he was just so relieved he couldn't help it. Arthur reached up, wiping away the tears with a half-smile, "I do. I get it Eames. God I just…you disappeared and I was…you saw at the safe house what it did to me. You have to know Eames…"

"Shhh, when I get fixed. Please, save it for then. I can't share that and then never…" Eames trailed off, not wanting to think about losing Arthur again. He reached up with both hands, cupping Arthur's cheeks as he slowly leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was gentle, as though Arthur was a delicate little doll, and it was all Eames could ask for. He pressed multiple small kisses to Arthur's lips before Arthur slipped his tongue out to meet Eames's own. Their kiss was slow and languid with a lot of nipping at each other's lips and tongues meeting in the middle in a slow motion. Eames was the first to pull back, pressing his forehead to Arthur's with his trademark wolf-like grin forming. Arthur smiled back, almost shyly, and leaned up one more time to peck Eames on the lips. They heard the music starting and looked up momentarily, both looking back to each other in unison and with matching, almost horrified looks, "Arthur I…"

* * *

But before Eames could finished they had woken up. Eames was still a furry mess of a dog, much to his and Arthur's shared dismay, but Arthur leaned over, kissing the top of his head gently, "Even if you stay a dog the rest of your life Eames, I will love you and care for you until the day you die."

Eames thought he knew what heartbreak felt like before but in that moment of Arthur even accepting him as a dog Eames realized what it truly was to feel your heart breaking. It was all consuming and earth shattering, and Eames never wanted to experience it again. Arthur gave him one last scratch behind the ears before getting up to go pack away his Eames file. He knew where Eames was now, that was for certain, but he could never explain it to anyone so he marked Eames as M.I.A. still and sent the file off to Dom with a short note.

_Dom,_

_I checked into everything. All the aliases, all the homes, and all the accounts. Nothing. Whoever did what they did, they did it well and hid him right under our noses. I stretched my limits, but for now Eames is gone and there is nothing we can do but hope that whoever did this suffers for what they are or have done to him._

_Say hello to James, Pri, and Ari._

_- Arthur_

Eames was asleep on the bed by the time he was done and Arthur didn't have the heart to make him sleep on the floor anymore after finally knowing who he actually was.

* * *

Thanksgiving passed and much to Eames and Arthur's shared dismay, Eames still had not changed back. Arthur knew Eames adored Christmas from one of their previous conversations they had before Eames was changed. In order to make Eames happy, the day after Thanksgiving Arthur came home with a fake tree, since he was allergic to the real ones and suffered enough growing up because of it, and decorated the apartment almost excessively. There was lights in every hallway and room, a mistletoe in the doorway to the living room area, and ornaments covered the tree.

Arthur indulged in his own Christmas traditions as well, baking sugar cookies for everyone he knew and making sure to constantly have a stock going of eggnog and candycanes. By the time Christmas Eve came around, Eames was almost sick of hearing Arthur humming carols as he moved about the home. He did appreciate Arthur getting him a loose red and green scarf to wear as a collar, since he loved cheesy things like that and when they went out, it made women coo at him and call him adorable. Arthur would roll his eyes as though Eames was annoying, but he did think the scarf was adorable so he couldn't be _too_ condescending.

The night of Christmas Eve Arthur found himself on the couch with some warmed eggnog, watching _A Christmas Story_ as he sat with Eames curled into his side. The scene where Ralph visits the mall Santa came on, making Arthur tense up. Eames lightly head-butted his hand, making Arthur look down at him and sigh, "You want to know how Christmas was for me when I was a child?"

Eames nodded, licking Arthur's hand once in an attempt to comfort him. Arthur smiled, moving his free hand to begin to lazily scratch Eames behind the ears, "I was the middle child of five children, so I tended to get ignored a lot. The two younger are women, so my parents fussed over them a lot more than me and my two brothers had been fussed over. They quickly realized their precious third-born was not going to be a sports star, like the rest of them, and decided to force it upon me instead to attempt to find at least one I was good at. My father played American football professionally. My mother was a gymnast and even got to participate in the Olympics when she was sixteen. My two older brothers played both football and basketball, though one preferred basketball more. My sisters did soccer when they were younger, but the youngest branched into cheerleading and gym as well while the other did swimming and soccer.

I, however, focused on my studies. When we got asked what we wanted for Christmas and my siblings wanted electronics, toys, and sports equipment, I wanted books and science kits. My parents hated it so they never bought me that stuff. I tried to send a letter to Santa once when I was eight to ask but they told me Santa did not bring things to children that acted so spoiled and tore the letter up. Ever since I just hated Christmas. Then, when I was in high school, I grabbed the wrong cup of eggnog and ended up with a eggnog and bourbon concoction. I was a lightweight at the time, and still am actually, so I was tipsy really quick. We sat down to family dinner and gosh, I could not have been more than sixteen at the time.

My mom's family and dad's were there that year, so all my cousins and relatives were there. I come from a strongly Jewish family too, mind you. So my aunt asked me how my life was going and I laughed at her, rather loudly, and shouted about how I was the class nerd that no one talked to because I was too smart and too gay for them to associate with in fear of catching-the-gay. My family was horrified, sent me to my room, and Christmas has always been a strained holiday since then because of that coming out fiasco."

Eames whined lowly, making Arthur look down at him again. He sighed, moving to stand up and unplug the tree. He spotted a present he had bought for Eames, shaking his head at it as he started to lead them both to the bedroom, "I got you something, just incase you had changed back. And I found something you had bought me for what I assumed was my birthday, so I put that there too."

_Twas actually a Christmas gift love, I just shop really early… _Eames climbed into the bed, curling up and watching Arthur go about his nightly routine. Finally, he came to lie in bed and curled up under the sheets and blankets with a despondent sigh, "God Eames, I miss you so much it hurts."

Arthur was asleep within moments of mumbling the statement out, making Eames whine quietly. He fell asleep moments after with a painful ache and longing in his chest. All he wanted was to be there and to love his boy. For once Eames actually began to hate his life and he never thought that could be possible.

* * *

When Eames woke up the next morning he noticed two things were different. One, he felt larger than usual; Two, his senses felt dulled. Groaning, rather loudly, he looked down to find not paws but his actual human hand beneath him. Grinning, he slowly crawled over Arthur's sleeping form and laid his weight down on top of the man with only a thin sheet to separate them. He grabbed the loaded die off of Arthur's bed stand, rolling it a few times to check if it was reality. With the confirmation that it was, in fact, real life, Eames continued with his plan. He leaned close, pressing his lips against the bottom of Arthur's jaw as he felt the younger man stir. Arthur's hips rotated, reflexively, and Eames moaned again softly, nipping at Arthur's jaw as he ground his own hips against Arthur's. Arthur's eyes shot open, making eye contact with Eames and widening almost comically. Eames smirked, leaning down to kiss the point man delicately, "Good morning love…"

"Eames? What…how…"

"I woke up all proper like this morning," Eames smirked, pressing his lips to Arthur's once more as he moved to fall onto the bed next to him, hooking a leg to rest between Arthur's so that he was lying with half of his body still resting on Arthur. Arthur sighed softly, his hand coming up to rest on Eames's cheek. He allowed his hand to run through Eames's hair and down to rest on the side of his neck, making sure Eames was in fact real. He looked to his bed stand and Eames laughed, leaning down to kiss Arthur on the jaw again as he settled into his place plastered to Arthur's side, "I checked already love. Completely real."

"Eames," Arthur sat up, making Eames sit up as well. He reached over, placing his hand on Eames's cheek with a strained smile before he continued, "I love you. So much."

"Pet, you have to know," Eames wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist, pulling him so that he was sitting and straddling Eames's legs, "You have to know that every day for the past six months I've tried to tell ya that. That I wanted to just pull you in and hold you and make everything stop hurting for so long. Before the PASIV, before you realized it was me yeah? I wanted to take you into my arms and just take away all that hurt. You make me a bloody loon is what you do. Absolutely barmy, indeed. But I love you darling. I love you and how you only show me these emotions. I knew when you shared everything with me you loved me, but I didn't know how to show you."

"You always have Eames. You always have and I was just too blind to see it," Arthur laughed under his breath, leaning in to press his lips tightly against Eames's again, "Will you…is this permanent?"

"I bloody well hope so."

"I am going to miss having a dog though…"

* * *

Eames showed up the next day with a German Shepherd puppy that was only eight weeks old, even though he was still slightly terrified of them from his one too many close encounters with the police. He jokingly suggested they name it Tom, after Eames's middle name, and Arthur liked it so it stuck. While Tom was a bit more misbehaved than Eames was, for obvious reasons, once they had him trained Arthur almost felt like he had Eames as a dog once more. Only this time, he had the best of both worlds.


End file.
